I suppose I’ll go ahead and write about the fire that is in front of me; standing so close that my clothes nearly ignite. They are the only protection I have – hope bricked by these flimsy, combustible threads.
Yes, again, I am facing grief. Continue reading Hauntings and Healings
A few moments on the balcony looking out to the edge of sky and water. Water and earth.
Bob is fishing off the bank and has signaled that he already has snagged two good sized trout.
Settling back into my water-scape view, tears swell as naturally as the persistent, gentle lapping of waves against the concrete bulkhead.
These are the good days.
In hindsight we’ll see more of the incredible gift of these easy times, even as we know in these moments their delicate joys.